The (Fe)Male Maxim
by skullwings
Summary: (AU KiddWay) Traditional fathers don't cause trouble. Traditional fathers don't read Anglo-Norman literature to their six-year-old sons. Traditional fathers don't pretend to be a mother and lead those sniffing about their past astray by cross-dressing. Naturally, James Kidd defies all those norms, and instead, takes on another persona to charade about in, also known as "Mary Read".
1. The Fairy Lover

"But soon, Lanval would find himself at wit's end. For insulting Queen Guinevere-and a woman at that, which you should never do-was an act of total disrespect. Not to say he wasn't justified in his account."

"But didn't the queen say bad things first?"

"Yes, which is what I said." A finger scanned the text whilst I tried to sum up the page of Anglo-Norman literature. "But no matter what, don't you act rude to any girl for any reason, d'you hear me, boy?"

"Does that mean I have to be nice to grown-up girls? And moms like you?"

"Yes, and _especially _mothers. May you be at their mercy should you spark their temper."

"What?" Ivy hues flickered up at me, expressing uncertainty. They were pristine and pure, yet to be tainted. In my (failed) attempt to put him to sleep, _Lanval _proved to excite him rather than lull him to sleep. He protested fiercely, as any 6-year-old would, though his fatigue was the eventual winner in this contest. He was just as stubborn as his father. Maybe his mother would have chided us both for being so adamant.

At times, I envied my son for being so ignorant, but I knew he would find out the truth eventually, and this included the fact that I hid my true sex from him. I am not a mother-I am only filling in her shoes. Think of it as a trade-off. As a parent, I replaced the flannel shirts for blouses and pigskin for the Boar's Head I'd be cooking in a stew. Sure, it's radical, and I'm not going to try to sway you otherwise. Though I will say this much: I can help and teach him more as a mother more than I ever could as an half-assed dad. There's no manual with step-by-step instructions on how to raise your kids right. By that same logic, there's nothing forbidding me from switching one role for the other. I want to raise him without having to raise my own hand. But how, _how? _

I go through this charade each night. In the evenings, I am James Kidd, in my traditional masculine glory. I have a normal life. I work at _Kingston's, _a small pub in the downtown of the city alongside my close friend, Anne Bonny, whom I've known for years. Though at home, with the help of cosmetics and applications, I'm Mary Read, single mother of her 6-year-old son Peter, who has a curious appetite for Medieval literature (simplified, of course) and who is progressing through first-grade. My boy doesn't know his father, though I believe it's better that way. Fathers can be replaced; though there's only one mother who gave you life. Though Peter's mother is occupied at the moment, she's always with him, in one form or another.

However, my other life is disclosed only to those I call friends, Anne included. My work-excluded. Which gives me no reason why I should be late for the third time in the row, except that the nanny is 30 minutes late. I was still a woman, and I couldn't change until the sitter got here (she too, was ignorant of my true sex). And as I waited, I couldn't help but have a bizarre foreboding of that night-a part of me _urged _me to stay home then. When the doorbell rang however, it was far too late to call it a night.

In that short drive, I cleansed my face of all make-up; ditched the pre-styled wig for a bandana to keep my hair at bay; and removed the goddamned silicone breasts that kept sliding down and everywhere else in my bra. It's a lot of effort trying to look like a woman, let alone pass off as one daily to your son. As I neared the parking, a familiar ginger didn't hesitate to pull up to my window and stare me down. Words were said, she clearly looked upset, but I couldn't help but toy with her-Anne made things lively and interesting. I even made out a couple of words, which when pieced together, became a mild threat.

"You're late!" She got her chance to speak when I got out of the car, to which I greeted her with a hand help up. I got the message. But I feigned a plucky smirk-of which she knew she was the only recipient of-with a peck to her jaw as compensation for my tardiness. Of course, she wouldn't let me slither away with that as an apology. Anne Bonny was one of those few folk I could stand to be around with for more than an hour without thinking of homicide. It's most likely because of our mutual distaste and distrust of people in general, or our notorious tempers, and keen wit. Though when you encounter someone like Anne, they'll surprise you in unimaginable ways. Such was the case as that evening.

"Don't you kiss me with your slimy lips, James!" She scowled, closely resembling a feline with her hiss. "Should Jack catch you, you'll be out of a job! And that's not counting the fact that you're late _again! _Pray tell, what's your excuse this time?"

"It's nothing really. Damn babysitter was late. Couldn't leave 'til she showed up."

"She's made you late three times in a row! I'm telling you, I don't mind watching over the little one next time! Peter's cute as a button-though he sure didn't get his looks from his father's side of the family." She winked, though her teases didn't affect me. Anne would be the perfect nanny, if only her drunken boyfriend would stop trying to throw me under the bus at every shot he got. Heaven forbid she came to my house for a night-oh, the hell he would throw. Personally, my boss (Anne's man) is nothing more than a stale cock trying to lay claim to everything he sees. He's greedy, foolish, a drunkard, and could burn in hell for the number of disloyalties he's made. Why or how Anne manages to put up with that prick is something only God knows.

"I'll consider it. Now come-I need something to make this job less painful than it is." As I shrugged away my thoughts, I noted the time on my watch-fifteen past eleven-and knew Rackham was going to have hell with me for being late.

"My, was that a compliment that passed your lips, James? Jack will have a fit. Whatever will you do to keep this affair hush-hush?"

"Anne, get in the damn pub already." She knew bloody well she was a soft spot of mine-and hell, did she abuse that privilege. Anne put me at ease and kept me on my toes all at the same time. We have a close, albeit vague relationship; akin to siblings, but even now, I can't put my finger on it. To me, she was irreplaceable-and she expressed the same sentiments. Having a past as we did, and being so alike, I suppose we were bound to bond one way or another.

Settling in, I was greeted by familiar faces: a couple of college students I saw time to time; the habitual alcoholics; woman that tried their damnedest to leave home with someone; and et cetera. When it got packed in a pub as tiny as this, certain events were more likely to transpire, namely fights, property being broken, and things better left unsaid. Though they are generous to their bandana-toting bartender, so there's that.

There was some activity going on in the bar. Across from where I was standing, there were chairs crowded around two tables in celebration of someone's birthday. In the corner near them, men avidly watched a basketball game on the HD TV sported right above them in all their glorious drunkenness. Some of the college students participated in some discussion about the conspiracy of an entertainment company whose name isn't important right now. All in all, things were calm on the bar's front, though there's no telling what went on in the office or the kitchen. Jack Rackham was a capricious one, like a bomb without a timer.

"So," Anne spoke up, bringing me back from my moment of observation. "How's your kid, James?"

"What can I say? He's got his mother's looks, but he acts more like his father each day."

"Which mum?"

Her wit earned her a sharp look, and I didn't bother replying to that. It's not so much that it was a sore subject, but when she phrases it in a way that makes me guilty, of course I'm going to be a tad sour. "He's the same as ever," I returned to answering her original question. "But the boy manages to tire me out. Not even _Lanval _will put him to rest."

"Sounds like you're getting old there, Pops. You think he might be too much for you?"

"Of course not. I just haven't been getting enough sleep lately, is all."

"James, you need to be giving yourself some rest. I can even see the bags beneath your ey-"

"Anne," I swatted her hand away from my face, getting slightly irritated at her mothering. Then, I wished for her to use her energy elsewhere. I would have fought back with more vigor, but I wasn't myself that night. "My whole charading about will never be a thing natural to me. Sure, I can spin a magnificent tale and make the sharpest man out there to be as dull as your father's blade-"

"Kidd!"

"But I'm determined to carry out this charade for as long as it takes. Regardless if it feels right or not."

"What are you going to do then?" Huffing, she cocked her hip at me. Anne wanted to push my buttons that night for some reason.

"What _can _I do? I've nothing to teach him as a father. How am I going to to teach him something I haven't experienced for myself? Besides, fathers can be replaced."

"What a gobdaw you are, James Kidd! And here, the mightiest of men is preaching to _me _about refusing the role of fatherhood! Had I not known you, I would have thought you in some kind of new-age cult! James-parenting isn't some perfected routine. Hell, if it was, it sure as hell wouldn't be called that, but '_conditioning' _instead!"

"Do not preach to me about parenting, Anne." Eyes flitting closed, I tried to ease away the throbbing migraine that kicked up with the woman's rebuttal of my argument. I was in no mood to fight back. "This isn't the time or place. Please."

Naturally, all I got was a gap of silence and another _huff _from the ginger before she went off to bus tables. Although it wasn't a full-blown argument, that's how it was whenever Anne and I got into disputes. Sometimes we would just drop it-like now. At other times, our tempers could become the devil's spawns and fight with one another until something breaks and last for days. Our longest spat lasted half a year. I told you, we're more alike than we would like to admit, jackassness included.

In this quietude, things were relatively calm in the world outside from us. A new group walked in, which not only caught my attention, but Anne's as well. A trio of men, nothing really remarkable about the lot, except that Jack was among them.

"Kidd, my boy!" His tone told me he was far from sober, if he thought we were on amicable terms. His hand, as limp as could be, motioned to the men he brought with him. "Get these fine men a drink, would ya? It's on the house!"

"The only time when he's lively like this is when he's piss-drunk." Anne's grumbles passed by me, as well as the bar's esteemed guests, which made them laugh.

The one closest to me, a blond male, appeared to be in his early 30's or late 20's. Definitely the latter if he shaved. Semi-formal attire-he either just got off of work or was one of those older people trying to fit in with the trending crowd. The other accompanying him was more boisterous as well as drunk, and was here to enjoy himself.

"Kidd, was it?" The deep voice caught my attention, and I saw him patiently waiting on my response. There was an accent when he said my name. It was like Anne's but not as thick.

"No need for formalities. I'm James." A brisk and brusque handshake accompanied my introduction. "What'll it be.." I paused for a moment to espy his name on the tag clipped to the covered polo. "Kenway?"

"It's Edward." A nod made way for a blip of a smile. "I'll have to decline your mate's offer for a drink, though. I've somewhere to be actually."

"Don't let him tell you lies, boy!" A heaving of lungs came from the dark-bearded man that sat alongside Kenway. The two seemed to be co-workers with mutual respect, or maybe even close friends. Either way, it was evident they had a bond. Kenway insisted on not having a drink, though was goaded on by the man aside him (Thatch was his name, as he later introduced himself). He wasn't reluctant in having more than one drink, though it led me to wonder if he convinced Jack into drinking as well. Shot after shot, he went on and on about some stratagem at work (which happened to be a detective agency not far from here). Eventually, he targeted me. "Boy, what's your name?"

"Kidd."

"Thatch, come on, let the man do his work," Edward tried to peel the older man from off the table and away from falling on one side. "Come now, we have to finish this work."

"For the love of _Chrrrist, _Kenway! It's a Saturday night! We can take care of the investigation in the morn!" Thatch vehemently interjected. I didn't blame him. Work is the last thing I want to think about when I'm having a drink.

It still didn't sink in that men like Thatch and Kenway were in the legal department. If anything, they looked like men on the opposite side. Right, the ones in orange suits and handcuffs. Now aware that I was serving officers, my night became more interesting. I suppose you could say the prison system and I had our colorful history-as in they kept knocking, but I never answered. Long story for a later time.

And as time passed, I kept an eye on the two (seeing Jack went off somewhere, probably to hurl chunks), and my ear became more an avid listener once it picked up their conversation getting interesting.

"Jaysus Edward, can ya hold it in 'til morning?" I played a little game, and placed mini-mental-bets inside my head to see what would unfold then. Thatch appeared frustrated, and by his tone, Kenway's apparent persistence on the topic had wound up the older man. If he wasn't careful, it could backfire, especially with how many drinks Thatch drank.

"I'm _this _close, Thatch! This case is about to be closed for good! With that tip from Hornigold, I now have a name!"

"But a name's just that. And Hornigold's the least trustworthy piece of gnat's shit you could've come 'cross. And what d'you expect to do once ya find 'er, hm? Where's yer proof?

"I could hold her as a suspect-"

"Listen, boy-" Thatch's voice sharply cut the air, leaving Kenway no space to respond. It was so boisterous that it drew in stray eyes, including Anne's. My own told her to pay attention to the two; I played the role of the bystander that really wasn't paying all that much attention and acted right on cue.

"Everything okay, gentlemen?" I asked, with eyes that scanned both men.

"Edward here left his head at work, and can't seem to take a load off. Kidd, do me a favor and 'im up something strong enough to have him not go to work tomorrow." The gracious tipper gave a couple of slow nods. Kenway, however, watched me warily from then on.

"Roger. Anne will bring it shortly." Walking off, I waited for them to revert back to the original settings so that they could resume their conversation. I shouldn't have been as intrigued as I was, but I couldn't resist. In the midst of my eavesdropping, i received a sharp jab to my gut.

"Peeping on the cops, are you? Shouldn't you be making their drink and not gaping at them?"

"Shaddup. I'm trying to figure out what the hell they're talking about." Muttering, I gathered the items necessary for a drink as Thatch described. However, Kenway didn't seem all that keen on drinking it. It would be a waste to make it for nothing. "Apparently, the blond is a feisty one, and things might get out of hand with those two."

"Really? Why?" A curious Anne queried as she wiped down the bars, but something had bothered me. I felt watched. I paid no mind to it, and continued to make a half-assed drink. It lingered, like having the urge to sneeze. It would wane, then surge up until I had the itch to just turn around and scan to see who the hell was staring at me. So finally, I said '_Fuck it' _and did just that.

It hit me. Kenway knew.

i glanced at his table to see Thatch continuing to reprimand him, but he gave a direct stare to me, this time, without that cheerful grin he plastered on earlier. I felt no hesitation to back away. In fact, it was all the more encouragement to keep playing the game. Sending the half-assed drink to them on Anne's tray, I stared them down with a grin belonging to a merchant, then giving a lax hand in the air to return Thatch's sign of appreciation. Him, I liked. Kenway, not so much. And Thatch was just the thing to distract him and finally take his eyes off of me. It was creepy.

In hindsight, maybe he was trying to warn me.

A long-winded sigh came from Thatch's throat as he declared, "Fine, Kenway. You get your extra time to find your Mary Read."

No. No. No, no. I must have heard something else. But they continued to say the same name over and over again. Panicking, I looked over at Anne to verify, who mirrored my actions at the same time.

"I still can't figure out why in the hell you're trifling with names as old as Mary Read. The girl's probably long gone, or even dead." Thatch was dismissive. Yes, that's how it should have been. So how come Kenway wasn't?"

"I don't think so, Thatch. Hornigold gave me ideas of where to find the girl. She's out there. And she's got hell to pay."

_Is that so?_

I contemplated what to do then, whether I should have intervened or not. Whether I should call in for some help to escort Kenway and Thatch out. In the midst of my thoughts, I was jerked back.

"S'cuse me, I need to borrow you for a sec," Keeping up pretenses of her own, Anne led me to the break room, then firmly locked the door behind her. She seemed more anxious than I, but at that point, I was glad to shed the mask I had been wearing in there. I was half-tempted myself to grab a bottle of liquor on the way over there.

I understood what this meant-someone looking for 'Mary Read'. I was in danger, as was my son. What I thought had been put to rest had now been dug up by men who knew nothing about the truth-who had no right to know. Because the Mary they were looking for was nowhere to be found. The real thing left a long time ago, I'm just her cover-up.

I had never been as quiet as I was in that moment. In that moment, I think I had my first panic attack. It wasn't like me to lose my poise, but it all came in like a landslide. Mostly, it was the thought of losing my kid that scared me. They could send me to hell and back, but I couldn't leave Peter alone. Not after what happened with his mother.

"James, you there?" Anne checked in on me mentally, to which I gave a grunt. That's all I could muster then. I never recalled feeling as tired and worn out like this in..ever. Normally, I would have a lot more bravado and gusto, but it's gone. Regardless, I would still put in the effort to do what I could.

"Anne, have you said a word about Mary to anyone?"

"Do you think me stupid, Kidd? Of course not! What the hell has gotten into you?! I would never risk your secret, or compromise your safety! You know better than that!"

I did. Which is why it didn't make sense.

"Then someone must have figured it out. I don't know how, but apparently, these men do. As well as some fellow named Hornigold."

"What d'you plan on doing?"

"At the moment, I don't know." My resolve deflated. I was going somewhere with this, but it just escaped. Edward Kenway was especially suspicious. I didn't trust him for a second. "If I wanted to extract information out of them tonight, it would be far too risky. Not to mention Jack is close with them too, from the looks of it. Which automatically rules you out for any involvement. How the _hell _do these people know about Mary?" The question kept rolling around in my head. I was getting more frustrated by the minute.

"Get a hold of yourself, and shut your gob!" Anne, despite her petite stature and frame, had a voice that could outroar the loudest of lions and frighten the toughest of men. It was also in that moment that I didn't know whether to be aroused or scared shitless, but I realized something. For some time now, I had always thought myself alone. That I had the burden of carrying this secret. Tonight changed that. When I questioned Anne, she showed that she held her fair share of responsibility, and that she was in just as much danger as I was.

These things weren't stated outright, but once I paused, I realized the mistake I was making for quite some time now.

"Kidd, just look at it this way: the man-that Kenway fellow-only has a limited amount of time to find Mary. Cover your tracks, and he'll end up with nothing."

"Oh, no. If he is that desperate to meet her, she'll meet with him. Though I'll guarantee you he'll end up regretting it."


	2. Gimme a Kiss, Sugar

Author's Note:

Hey all, this is Silas speaking. Just wanted to thank all of you for giving such a positive feedback and response to TFM-like WOW. I was blown away. I'll be updating weekly with this fic, so it'll come out every Friday/Saturday evening. If you want updates, my tumblr is posted on my profile, where I'll be most of the time. As a side note, I know first chapter was a doozy, as they all are, but please keep in mind this is still very early in the plot, and I don't plan on giving it all away in the first chapter ? Not my style-–I am purposely making you question why that character said or did such and such. Lastly, the slang/diction I encorporated is from the 18th century, relative to the game's setting. Pascalbonnenfantdotcom is a glossary where you can look up some of the words (as well as use them for your own fics, hell !) to figure out what the hell I'm writing. Please read and enjoy, and as always, feedback is always appreciated !

XOXO

* * *

There are many things that differ when you cross-dress as a woman, but the most notable distinction is that you're able to see through a different lens. Your audience too, will change according to your presentation. Slugs and slurs will be replaced with offers to buy you drinks (the reverse is true). However, the most significant item I noted is how stark the female's bathroom is. It is an absolute _haven_ compared to the men's stalls. I mean sure, there's still shit, but the faded lilac on the walls gives it a nice touch. Though you might be asking, 'Why are you in the women's restroom?' To sniff the piss-stained daisies of course.

"Did you fill in that eyebrow like I told you?"

"Never had I had to cover up this scar, Anne, and I'll be damned if it's solely due to that cur!"

Hopefully, you're about to sympathize with me on what's about to take place.

"You have to look the part _lass_." My ginger friend milked as much agony out me as possible. Had I not been in the middle of applying concealer, I would have had my way. "Besides, that scar would be a dead giveaway! Isn't the whole point to _disguise_ yourself?"

I had to give her that. "You know this'll be the only time I'll dress up for a man."

Whilst she powdered her face, I saw her eyes in the mirror shift to the left. "Whadd'ya mean by that?"

"I mean that 'Mary' is a one-night premiere event outside of my house. She's only setting the trap."

"And how d'you expect to go about that?"

"Simple: you'll distract Thatch, leaving me with Kenway, and I'll just tell him what every man of the town wants to hear from a lass. 'Sides, he doesn't look to me as if he's taken. I don't think he cares so much about the fidelity of his relationships anyhow."

Anne grew silent then, which drew my attention. I prodded her to reply with my boot's tip, but she only wore worry. "Have you forgotten about Jack?"

"What about him?"

It wasn't like her to keep quiet. Hell, that was the bloody opposite of the hot-blooded Irish gal who spoke whatever came to mind. Over the years, I've noted that when she became mute as such, the following consequences were far from favorable.

"Look, it's not that I'm refusing, but Jack and I have found ourselves into a bit of a quarrel."

_Oh, it was clearly more than that. Don't you try to stall off me, Anne Bonny. You of all people should know I've a silver tongue and the ears of a shaver-hardly anything gets past me, including little white lies. _

Of course, had I said this, she would undoubtedly think me pretentious and ostentatious towards her. "Sorry to hear that." Was all I opted for instead.

"You don't have to lie, but I appreciate the sentiment, James." The pats she gave to my shoulder weren't all that convincing, "I don't mind being a decoy, but allow me to aid you, woman-to-woman. Starting with your...everything."

"What are you going on about?"

"Sure, you might fool a couple of cods, but if your fella's looking for Mary Read, shouldn't you look the part?"

"Anne, what the hell are you talking about? I do dress up as Mary Read!"

With a roll of her eyes, Anne groaned. "For Christ's sake, James! You have to have sex appeal! Even if you're dressed as a woman, that doesn't mean men will automatically hone in on you. You have an advantage, as you know what they prefer. So only this time, I'll make you into something fierce."

"Anne, I'm not going to seduce him, bloody hell."

Her make-up brush _clinked _against the wood counter of the sink. I was convinced that with females, Anne was an entirely different woman. "Do you think that man is simply going to hand out his information to some cross-dressing half-wit that doesn't even know how to walk in stilettos? James, allow me to share some valuable knowledge I've gained in my 27 years of _genuine _womanhood: though we are conceived to be thought of as the weaker sex, I'm going to prove to you right here and now how outdated and wrong that delusion is. We are equal with our male counterparts. For in exchange for physical strength and brawn, we exhibit a sensual side to us that showcases our beauty. And our feminine wiles are generally powerful enough to reign superior." Her voice fell in volume with its tone possessing a wary nature to it. Though I'll be damned to say that she had my full and undivided attention with her petite fingers touching the sides of my face.

"Now the 'beauty' varies from woman to woman, and that's what makes us as capricious as we are fatal-a cunning missus never risks her stratagem being exposed. Whether it's the wit of her mind planning said attack or the message her body conveys that allows her to seize her prize, though her results may vary. Nonetheless, there are those that will go above and beyond to create their own techniques and perfect it."

Anne's own techniques had unfolded as she spoke-she made a hell of a narrator. Our proximity had shrunk to where I could pick up on her scent lingering in her mane. She proved her point all the while those nails edged at the stubble on my jawline. Strange thing of it was I didn't say no.

"You will need to become exactly that. You knew the _real_ Mary Read, and she was a force to be reckoned with. So I'll teach you the definition of _'femme fatale'_ and in exchange, you'll persuade your blond friend to lose any and all interest in Read."

The objective was clear, and I knew what I had to do, but it wouldn't be smooth sailing by any means. "He doesn't look gullible enough to be seduced in one night."

"Oh, I know. But rest assured, we'll have him in the palms of our hands. Now be still while I reapply your foundation."

As she worked her magic, I took mental notes on the things she did. The silence was oddly settling as I watched Anne. She directed me a couple of times. 'Close your eyes.' 'Turn your head left/right.' 'Raise your head.' There was an art to it, and I lacked the skill for it. I would simply smear on the foundation where my facial hair grew to lighten the skin, but Anne applied it like a true artist. Was this something all women knew the secret to? Who could say. It jonly proved to me that I knew I was no better than when I had first started dressing as Mary; only difference was that I knew the names to some of the products. Anne promised to give lessons in the 'art of women', provided I let her be Peter's nanny from that night on. How could I refuse such a deal?

When all was said and done, I didn't recognize myself. Anne reprimanded me against touching my face and 'ruining' it. She did a number with my hair. I was accustomed to simply pulling over a wig, but the woman did God and saw my braids loosened, and my hair in such waves to make Poseidon jealous. By god, I was a vixen.

"You ready to turn some heads?" Copper brows raised with glee, and I saw mischief in Anne's eyes.

"You look like you're going to piss your pants."

"Can you blame me? I'm about to watch my best _male _friend dupe an officer as some temptress."

"Point taken."

While Anne had finished my face, she gave some pointers on how to act. Minor things. Like to not speak too much in a conversation so I would have that "enigmatic" trait. Or to not be so bold that I'll scare a man off. I found all of the things she said completely contradictory to her nature. Though being that she was a true woman, I decided to trust her word.

It was show time when we exited the restroom and found our respective men idling near the bar. "You go for Thatch." I whispered to Anne in a mask of a smile as we headed his way.

"Worry about yourself, lass." A wink was the last I saw of Anne before she set to work. Lying incognito for a moment, I awaited them two to relocate so I could target Kenway. Interestingly enough, it was if I was seeing a different Anne right then. Nonetheless, she and Thatch appeared to be hitting it off, so it was time I did the same.

As I approached Kenway, I saw him making his way to go. "Leaving so soon?"

"You should've came sooner. Lord knows I was dying for some entertainment tonight." A beer slipped between his lips and I caught his eyes scanning me. I had the impulse to question him checking me out, but reminded myself that his interest was what I was after. "And if you were so keen to observe me, why wait for so long?"

"I wanted to talk to you alone."

"So you could go in for the kill or are you a shy gal?"

"Bit o'both, if I had to be honest."

"You didn't have to be-but I'm flattered to receive no lies. Please, take a seat." Kenway offered Thatch's chair to me.

I kept analyzing this as a step-by-step problem. 1. Get his pique. 2. Keep him interested while maintaining a conversation. 3. End the conversation and leave him wanting more. It sounds simple, but take into account the human factor (i.e. cocking up everything to the nine), and the fact I've never courted a male, and things aren't so simple then. But I'm Mary Read now, and there's no space for blunders.

I noted that he was in a particularly better mood than when I saw him earlier. "You're going to offer me a seat but not your name?"

"Edward Kenway. And you?"

"Hm...you have yet to earn it, Edward."

"I beg your pardon?" A quizzical look was shot my way.

"You heard me. Why hand it out to someone that has yet to deserve it? And I'm not one for lies, so aliases aren't a possibility."

You could see that with his grin widening, the man viewed it as a kind of challenge he would have to take on. "Pray tell, what actions could guarantee a lucky sod a chance at your name?"

"For starters, drinks are a good way to go."

Kenway revealed himself to be a rather cocky fox, which worked in my favor, as I could simply tell him whatever he wanted to hear. "Shouldn't be a problem. Anything you're in the mood for?"

"Surprise me."

His smirk reeked with so much ego, it practically stained his teeth. "Kidd!" He called out, and in turn, made me alert. I opened my mouth to reply, but shut it just as quick.

God, what would have happened had I replied then...though that's not the thing that put me on edge. Instead, it was the reaction Kenway's call stirred up.

"Kidd!" The sound of a shattering bottle announced the man's arrival before his own voice. "James! Get your lazy arse out here!"

A groan came out my mouth, and I didn't hold back having to cradle my head in secondhand-embarrassment. I could have only imagined what Anne must've been thought. However, Kenway seemed more than amused at my displeasure. "Someone you know?"

I looked at him as if to say, '_Don't play coy'. _"Believe me, I'm just as ashamed of him as you are."

"Well, I've no reason to be, considering I don't care much for the man. Thatch knew him from a place and time I really didn't pay much attention to when he was explaining. We just happened to bump into him on our way back from work. I wasn't going to turn down a free drink, even if it was from a drunk tavern master."

"Really? I didn't see you drink all that much."

"Aye, the spirits in the drinks weren't much to my satisfaction. It's probably Jack's air of pretense that's done infected them all into making them like decent drinks."

"Disregarding your bias, I will agree with you on that bit about Jack. I've never liked him much."

"Hm. He a past lover of yours?"

My eyes opened at his words. "Put those raised brows back to rest, Edward. I guarantee you we've never that kind of relationship."

"Pardon." A wry smirk accompanied his nod. "Wasn't my place to ask."

"Damn right it wasn't."

Seeing as 'Kidd' was nowhere to be found (an idea my boss had failed to realize yet in his drunken stupor), I helped myself freely to Kenway's drink. Dismissing the mischievous look he gave, I took little less than half of what was left. It was bizarre, but the miniscule actions I assumed would go unnoticed actually aroused his interest. For one, I thought he would be a hard-ass and keep that original sternness I saw in him earlier. Amazing what a woman can do. Things went well, until Jack started to make a scene.

He barked at the back of the pub, where Thatch and Anne had relocated to talk amongst themselves. I stole a glance here and there while speaking to Kenway to check up on Anne, and things looked fine. Again, before Jack made his entrance.

"Anne, what the bloody hell are y'doing all cozied up to Thatch like that? Git over here."

I already knew things wouldn't bode well and here's why: Jack, being the ass he was, could be listed as an "angry" drunk and a jealous man; I had a good impression that Thatch was too; Anne is not the submissive type of women that will do a man's beck and call, so Jack's tirade on her would do little to defuse the situation; lastly, Thatch was involved with the law, and I was certain he would have tricks up his sleeve for to be able to have Jack's ass handed to him. Needless to say, all of this would not make my night.

"Oh, for Christ's sake," I hissed under my breath whilst I abandoned Kenway to go see what was unfolding.

"Jack, what are you going on about?" Anne stayed rational as she attempted to calm the man down, but did so in vain. "He and I were merely talking!"

"What a damned jilt y'are, Anne Bonny! For the Lord knows you've your sly tongue to let all the men in this town wonder what it'd be like to strum the strings of an Irish hell-cat. And _you, _Thatch!" Jack nearly tripped over his own two feet while nearing them. He threw a bottle at the bearded man, but missed by mere centimeters.

"Least she's not a coward like the tiny man trying to talk the big talk!" Thatch heartily took Jack up to his challenge. Meanwhile, the bar was quickly filing out. Anne maneuvered slyly out of the limely as I ushered her to go to my care. Things only got more intense after a table was thrown, and with Jack now up and moving, he saw the head of copper make her way out.

"Oh? _Oh_?! You gettin' in _Kidd's _car, Anne?I bet you a common sight there in the evenings, aren't ya, lass?!"

I didn't know if his prattle had shook her up, but it only made me furious. "Shut you goddamned gob, Jack!" I wanted to throw a table at him myself. God, how he managed to get under my skin. It was until later that I realized my outburst threw him off, and I remembered I wasn't Kidd, but Read now.

Consequently, Thatch had reared up another table, but had quickly dropped it with Edward securing his arms. "Thatch, NO! He's not worth the time and effort!"

"Damn right!" Thatch was never one to give in so easily, I noted. "I'd be doing that Anne lass a favor by teaching this fat-headed oaf a coupl'a things!"

"Go on! Go an' fuck that useless strumpet! She gets old after the first couple of nights!"

Without thinking, I jumped in. My current attire was to my advantage, as no one would suspect a woman being able to hold her own. I caught Jack, wound his arms behind his back in a tight lock with one of mine. A hand snatched his hair and shoved his face down to collide with the glass of the bar. I don't know what kind of look I wore, but Kenway's and Thatch's (of awe, astonishment, and admiration) avoided eye contact for a second. Shrugging back, I jerked my chin to tell them to wait outside, as I had the sense Jack had some fight left in him.

"Hey lass...what's your issue, hmm?" His slurred speech heated my face, forcing me to turn my face as far away from him as I could. My fists were still curled in the fabric of his clothing, and I felt so much rage in that moment, I was just _waiting _to make a move on him to knock him unconscious. And I got my chance.

His putrid breath and the stench of alcohol stained the air that I was breathing, making me want to gag. "You know there's no one here but you and I, girl." He grinned, hanging tooth and all. I made a reminder to myself to look for a new job in the morning.

"God, just shut the hel-_hmm_!"

I jolted, then froze, feeling something warm, moist, and not my tongue crawl in my mouth. Bucking him off with a knee directly underneath his arse, I nipped his tongue's flesh to get his lips off of mine. Not withholding my strength, I willed myself to throw him _at _the bar, directly where the shelves of alcohol were stocked. His body rolled and _thudded, _and was followed by several fine bottles of spirit breaking. Ah, what a shame they had to go to waste. As a parting gift, I took two bottles of whatever was closest to me. One for the road, and another to rinse out my mouth of cretin.

At the door, I found Anne completely alert and ready to leap into action. Her adrenaline kicked in then, and I had to take her energy down a notch. "Easy, Anne. I took care of him."

"He's not the smallest man, but I'm surprised a _woman _could take on someone's Jack size." Her two blinks were a reminder that I went slightly overboard. In my defense however, he was a shitty boss and had that one coming for _years. _

"I'm sorry." I gave her a look that told my apology was also for things that were in between the lines of my message. "Are you alright?"

"What, you think I can't handle myself?" Huffing, she puffed up, her energy making her look more lively. "It'll take more than a drunkard to hold me down. Apparently that goes for you too."

"Well, you know...adrenaline and whatnot." My mind ran blank, and Anne saw this. Chancing a look to the two men who were busy talking amongst themselves, she then looked to me to give a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you, Mary." Her lips were turnt up in a smirk, dissipating quickly as she turned to bade goodnight to the men. I offered her a ride in my car, which led to her ranting about how she refused to be treated as a 'victim'. That was Anne, in all her stubborn glory.

"She's stronger than she looks, don't worry."

I turned around to see Kenway staring me down with the same grin Anne wore-was it contagious?

With a shrug, I gave a wry laugh. "Tonight was...actually I've yet to experience anything like tonight. Apologies if my little stunt back there has changed your impression of me. I think Anne would have reacted the same, had her boss try to shove his tongue down her throat."

"So you two _did _have a past."

I turn to scowl something fierce at him, but his snickers cut me off. "Not of the romantic kind, I can assure you. You know, for someone I met tonight, you sure don't mind sticking that beak of yours where it doesn't belong. What's your deal?"

Pausing, he leaned back against the side of his car, as if in deep thought. And I say 'as if' because he was _clearly _stalling, even if he bluffed it well. It made me wonder how good a liar was he. "I like figuring people out-how they work. What buttons they have, what'll catch their eye, things like that. We're like individualized computers, and you just have to mess with someone for a while to see what triggers them and what doesn't. Eventually, you'll start to get so exposed that their reactions and thinking become completely predictable. It's the ones that break that path that catch my pique."

"I'm practically wobbling in my knees for not being an ordinary machine, as you have just compared me to." Scoffs rolled out of my mouth, but the smile lingered. "If you were so intrigued by me, what held you back?"

Teeth showed from prickly lips that pulled back for a grin (which I noted he does a lot). "But I _did _get your interest, didn't I?"

"Yes, but for different reasons than you might think."

"As long as I made a mark, I'm good for the night."

"What makes you think you'll make a lasting impression?"

"I was hoping-"

Raps on something nearby interrupt us, and shuts Kenway up. I turn to where he's looking to find Thatch hand-signaling us to get a move on. I couldn't help but laugh at his stupidity. He was a colorful one indeed-not one you would peg to go out drinking with his co-workers.

Thatch's stunt brought on some agitation in Kenway, but he quickly regained his poise. "May I have your number?"

"No."

"Have another second to think abou-"

"You're not getting my number, Kenway."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"No name, no phone number..you either really want to make me beg or you're hiding something."

"...Or it could be that I simply don't feel like divulging that sort of information."

"It's your call." Taking a step towards me, he grabbed my wrist, along with a pen from his pocket. 10 quick digits were inked on the underside of my wrist reminded me of this night,

"Do you expect me to call?" I glanced over the numbers, then to him.

"I would hope so. You've left me no choice."

"Fair enough...maybe."

"Maybe?"

This guy was gullible. "If I feel up to it, I might ring you up."

"That a promise?" He didn't know when to quit.

"It's whatever you want it to be, Edward Kenway. Tell Thatch good night for me."

"You haven't any goodbye's left for me, lass?"

His persistence made me want to keel over for how utterly lame he was being. "Sorry, we're out for the night!" I bellowed from the long distance we were apart. "Try not to sniff me out and I might even take you out somewhere!"

"Go home already!"

I tried to keep a straight face on the rest of the time I walked back to my car. How impossibly embarrassing was this. I don't blush, I don't cry. Instead, I laugh at my own follies, and I sounded like a madman hooting from the things I did that night. I was beginning to question if Anne's makeup had any _special ingredients _to it to make me act in such a way. I cross-dressed and flirted with a _man, _a detective, for Christ's sake! I fought my boss in semi-feminine boots!

Truth be told (and this was probably the only honest thing about that night), I had no idea what in the hell I was doing with myself. It was as if the more I lied, the more tangled up in things I got, but it was all the more exciting. I never had planned on dressing as a woman in public; this was meant to be a private affair only. Obviously, it's not going to be able to stay that way.

Walking back up to my loft, exhaustion kicked in. I was so out of it that I completely bypassed the elevator in the lobby and opted for the stairs instead. By the time I reached the fourth tier, I was panting like a dog, practically begging for a pitcher of water. My make-up felt as if I could have wiped it off in one swipe with the sweat on my face.

"James?"

_I am a damned soul._

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Graceful hand outstretched, motherly smile in place, and action. It was my neighbor across from me who stepped out at the same time I was going in, but I could never remember his name. He had seen me in my normal attire, but not as a woman, as 'Mary' was only a assigned a motherly role. I couldn't remember his name for the life of me, but I knew it sounded like a South Indian restaurant. Was he Indian? No, he looked more Latino. For the time, I relied on improv to aid me during his interrogation.

"Oh...apologies, I mistook you for-"

"James, I know." Lips still smiling, I had to give my backstory. "I was just dropping something off."

"At three in the morning?"

"My flight was delayed."

"There's a hurricane on the East Coast that would have stopped all flights for at least a day."

"I flew in from Washington."

"Where's your accent?"

"It was a multi-stop flight."

"Then what caused your delay?"

"Delta Airlines."

In the silence between us, I was content with the verbal duel that took place. He and I hadn't talked much, but he was a sharp-witted one, I knew that much. He had a questionable ethnicity, and I've been wanting to ask him about it, but didn't want to come off as rude.

"Ah Tabai." A callous hand shook mine lightly.

"Pleasure. Mary Read. Now if you'll excuse me.."

"Of course. Tell James I would like to speak to him tomorrow."

"Sure thing. Good night, Mr. Tabai."

Being at home at long last, I gave a sigh of relief. My feet literally wobbled on the way to the couch, and I allowed my body to plunge into the cushions. The note from the nanny was left on the coffee table, but my body was so deprived of energy that I didn't bother reading it-my eyes had already drooped closed.

When I stopped to think, this place didn't at all feel like home to me-just a place to eat, sleep, and be Mary. It just never sunk in for me. It had all the elements to call it a home, but didn't feel like it. Was that why I couldn't sleep? I wasn't the type to stress over such trivial matters, but I was restless nonetheless.

Upon my self-investigation, I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the voice beckon my other name 'til I felt a petite hand tug on my digit.

"Mama, why aren't you in bed?"

I probably woke him with all the noise I caused, which was deaf to me, as I was barely conscious at the time.

"This'll be my bed for tonight. Mum's too tired to walk all the way to the bed."

"Oh!" You could literally see the light bulb flicker on in his head. "I'll carry you! Take my hand!"

"No, no-" My mirth got the best of me. "I'm heavier than I look."

"Then...can I sleep with you?"

Scooting over to the back of the couch allowed Peter enough space to fit in (even if my legs were dangling off one end of the sofa). The scent of _Johnson & Johnson _was strong. The bush of chestnut atop his head was definitely from his mother's side. He was a spitting image of her.

At times, seeing her in him made my gut roll.

I understood why she left, and I probably would've been worse had I been in her position. She was justified in her actions, ones I understood fully, but still have difficulty accepting to this day. Instead, I accepted the false reality that she wasn't in this world anymore. In a way, she was and she wasn't. She cut all ties with those she knew so she could begin a life anew; consequently, here I am, parading about as her at home (and now to the law). She wasn't dead, and she never would be. For now, it was just a matter of playing possum until things got settled.

"Love you, Mama."

"Love you too. Though you'll have to loosen your Hulk grip because you're choking me."

"Oops. Sorry."

I had an obligation to protect my family. So I'll be damned if someone was trying to destroy it.


	3. Schadenfreude

The radio station was the first thing to greet me with their top 20 countdown at 10 AM. Although it was in the other end of the apartment, my ears were accustomed to pick up on it. Mornings were always a struggle for me. My son however, was the complete opposite: had I failed to wake up to the radio, he was a sure bet on getting me out of bed. I envied him for his youth.

Persistent tugs made way for the roar that was my yawn. Often, Peter compared me to a lion whenever I did that, so he would sometimes join in with his own "roar". That morning was no exception: the boy sprung with life after he stretched, then tried to urge me to adopt his behavior. "Mama, what are we gonna do? What're we gonna eat?"

I made a dramatic show of wheezing and coughing, then pinched my nose. "Before your mouth can start runnin' off, off to the bathroom! You've a terrible case of morning breath!"

"Morning what?" Peter blinked twice, as was his usual expression of confusion.

"The germs in your mouth made your breath stinky."

Two petite hands instantly covered up said scene of the crime accompanied by open eyes full of surprise. His nimble feet took him to the restroom, where I promptly heard the faucet turn on. I got a good laugh from his naiveté, though it was all in good fun. In the back of my head, I was relieved that it was a Sunday; last night's troubles were all in the past, leaving me to enjoy some quality time with my son. If I had a choice, I would stay with him, but my work schedule was often an inflexible and rigid thing, one that couldn't be adjusted to my personal life.

Our normal Sunday routine began with a late awakening followed by brunch. Mentally, we were both preparing for Monday, as it always managed to drain us both. Fortunately for me, mine would be less laborious, as said labor didn't exist. The thought of work then made me uneasy, because I knew I was only fooling myself: James Kidd was nowhere to be found that night—he just up and vanished while a "Mary Read" stirred up quite the commotion by tossing the pub owner over his own bar. Though being that we were literally one in the same, I felt repulsed at the thought of having to work there. My boss nearly suffocated me with tongue, and I wasn't down with that. Then there was the kilter topic of Anne: when in a debacle like last night, the aftermath is the only period when she doesn't speak her mind. Being the capricious one she is, the lass bottles it all up on often an innocent fellow and I was determined not to be he. Lastly, the two officers that loitered about did anything but their job. Quite frankly, I was surprised at how they managed to keep their position. The two of them were a strange lot indeed, and I wasn't sure what to make of them, save for the fact that they were after "me".

Upon thinking of them, I glanced at the ten digits on my wrists, and saw that the numbers were barely legible from smearing. However, it was my best bet as of then. I pondered the decision out-and-out, and figured it might be wise to have Anne here to offer guidance. It wasn't so much that I was clueless on how to deceive (because I was very knowledgeable, trust me), but it was more so in taking precaution. I didn't offer Kenway my name or phone number, as it could have possibly given away my identity in the long run. I wasn't an idiot—he could have easily looked me up.

These concerns were pushed to the back of my head as I tried to relax with the daily news. However, that too, proved to offer no solace:

"...The company has announced its merger with AC Power, and is set to launch its new branch in Quebec this winter. Following AC Power's massive drop in sales due to the 2012 natural phenomenon, its merger with the rapidly growing corporation is expected to improve sales tremendously. Next, we uncover the base of operations for a group of conspirators who claim that are "serving to liberate humanity from being imprisoned", but their actions will soon have them behind their own bars. After an anonymous tip pinned them to the series of the murders of corporal giants last year-"

A knock on the door roused me from my zombie-like state. Peter perked up behind the kitchen counter upon hearing the sound, curious as ever. However, I was wary—visitors weren't a common occurrence on our doorsteps, especially at this hour. I pondered the thought of sending Peter to his room, in case it was an unwanted visitor. I trusted my intuition to give me the safest option. A peeled eye was kept on the boy as I opened the door, though the person there nearly demanded both eyes on him.

"Good morning, Ms. Read." The neighbor across from me greeted with a neutral expression. "How do you fair?"

"U-Uhm, fine, I suppose." I instinctively wrapped my robe tighter around my body to conceal my blank, disheveled state. "What brings you here so early?"

I saw the folds between his brows scrunch together—a sign that I did something wrong. "My meeting with James?"

Shit. I could either play it smooth or feign ignorance. However, the latter would indefinitely buy me more time to keep Peter occupied and change.

"Oh no…" Wincing, I could literally feel my eyes grow larger upon trying to appeal to Ah Tabai's sensitivity (if any) for women. "I'm so sorry; I completely forgot about that—I was just so exhausted yesternight. Do you mind waiting for James? He's still asleep."

"Of course. Not a problem."

"Thank you, dear." I bade him off with a humble smile before the door close behind me. I then stood there, gawking with an open mouth—'dear'? Where the hell did my testosterone go?

If I was going to ditch my guise as Mary, I would need to keep Peter occupied somehow. While he has seen his false mother, the child hadn't been acquainted with his true father, though they be the same man. If Ah Tabai knew of this, who knows what his reaction would be—it left me with a choice in which I had to go back on my word, but it was the only way.

"Hey, Peter, do you fancy a visit from Aunt Anne?"

"Yeah! Can she take me somewhere? Last time, she promised me that!"

His enthusiasm was something I had to tone down for fear of Ah Tabai hearing. "Sure thing, kiddo. I'll go call her up, and you go watch Netflix in my room."

"I need your help with the Wii remote. I'm too short."

In our transition to the bedroom, I was awaiting Anne on my cell as I helped the boy choose a film. Upon the fifth ring, low grumbles and swears answered my greeting to which I replied by holding the phone out for Peter to call out to Anne.

"Why, hello my little cock-robin!" I could practically envision her seething look of hatred that she wore just for me. "Can I talk to your mum?"

"Yup!" I took the phone back, and went to the restroom outside to speak to Anne in private.

"Anne."

"James, you cretin, how dare you use your child like that."

"Mum needed to call a helping hand."

"Hilarious. I'm just wallowing in my own frisk."

"And she needs yours as well."

"Pardon?"

"Your aid. I'm in over my head at the moment. In short, you've a chance to watch Peter."

"Wait, what?"

"Anne, please," I huffed. "I've a square fellow over, one who I assume doesn't fancy Mary much, but I can't leave my kid unattended and possibly make a scene about where his mother went. Do you see my dilemma?"

"Aye, and it could be solved if you just told your kid the truth."

"Not an option."

"You're as stubborn as an ass," Anne groaned, and I knew from that sound that she was on her way. "Be there in 15."

"Right back at you. When you get here, take the back entrance."

"You owe me big."

"Yeah, yeah."

To my good fortune, I was prepared for an event like this. Clothes for both sexes were stocked not only in the bathroom and closet, but in other various places all over the house (the kitchen sink; underneath the couch cushions; the false floor in Peter's bedroom) as well. Paranoid? Maybe, but I was at least prepared.

Both hair and clothes were flung haphazardly to the tub whilst Huggie wipes cleared my face of yesternight's makeup. Behind all that liquid and powder, my true face (and age) was revealed, and I had deja vu at not recognizing myself. I forgoed my braids, and having tied up my hair in a bun and a bandana to keep it at bay, I accomplished the "just got out of bed" look well. My God, I looked like a bum.

I heard my visitor at the other door. Only, it wasn't a backdoor, but an oversized window that for some reason, the original owner of this house wanted to keep. It proved to be advantageous over the years. Anne too, used it to her benefit in getting up here, though it still bewildered me how she managed to climb six stories. When I asked her how that was humanly possible, she avoided the answer, and instead, offered it up as a prize if I could best her in a contest. Needless to say, I lost.

Upon her arrival, I explained everything in a breath's length broken into blip sentences. "I'll be in the living room with my guest. You keep Peter occupied. Don't leave the room. I shouldn't be longer than half an hour."

"Lord, spare me a moment after I scaled a couple of stories for my trap friend." Though she was jesting, I felt the full impact of that remark. Clearly, this Sunday didn't live up to my expectations.

"Peter's in my room." Was all I said before going to the salon, not leaving space for Anne to interject this time. She'd been testing her limits with me lately.

She got the hint, judging by the fact that the door to my bedroom was promptly shut after my words. I looked to my watch: twenty-two minutes had elapsed since I last saw Ah Tabai. It wasn't too long of a wait, but most of it was due to Anne. Now onstage as James, I made my appearance, but with less vigor as Mary. "Uh...howdy?" I opened the door, and wiped at the nothings in the corners of my eyes. "What brings you here so early?"

"May I come in?" Even Ah Tabai appeared to have put on pretenses. How dare he treat Mary better. I demanded equal treatment.

"Sure, step in." I gestured him in. Something about him seemed off, I noted. I could clearly pinpoint that he felt suspicious, and maybe even a little paranoid, but the question "_why_" was begging to be answered. "Can I offer you anything to drink or eat?"

"No, thank you. Though you look like you could use some caffeine."

"It was a rough night." I commented with mock laughter to ease the stifling air.

"Oh?" His face shifted to one of interest. "Are things alright?"

I couldn't figure this guy out. He was obviously seeking something...could it be that he saw through my guise? Come to think of it, I didn't know anything about this guy. "Yeah, yeah, things just got a little out of hand at work yesterday."

"What happened?"

_You're an inquisitive one, aren't you?_

"If you don't mind, Ah Tabai...why are you here?" I curtailed the long-winded conversation from lengthening.

He grew quiet then, and his display was shed. At that point, I could see he spoke truthfully from then on. "James, although we aren't acquainted well, despite being next-door neighbors…"

_Don't pull that indirect guilt card bullshit with me. You don't see me questioning you about what you were up to at three in the morning. Wait a minute…_

"...So I felt the need to tell you lest you should imperil yourself because of her."

"Wait what?"

His patience was being tested, though I had no intention of pissing him off. "That Mary Read character is a suspicious one, James."

This time, it was my turn to act surprised. "First impression didn't leave you satisfied, huh?"

"James, I am not a rash person, so do not assume I am acting on intuition alone."

"Okay, what then?"

The silence that fell was anything but settling. It put me on edge, and made me wonder if I should kick the man out then and there. Then I would be the rash one.

"Is she here?"

"No, she left."

"Then I can tell you. She is in peril. Avoid her, James."

Pausing for a moment, I chose my words carefully. "What kind of peril?"

"Why must you be so stubborn?"

"If you were in my shoes, would you be any different?"

"Yes. Now, listen to me: it is for your own safety that you avoid her."

As adamant as this man was, a part of me was relieved that he no longer suspected me of being Mary. "Unless you have actual proof, I can't do that."

"It is then with regret that I tell you this," The darker man paused to cough. "But she's wanted by the law—who, I should warn, are avidly searching for her now."

I suppose the expression on my face told the man that I was caught off-guard, as he awaited me to let it sink in. But how did he know? Was he involved?

"My occupation is at the PSAP—Public Safety Answering Point—I work with the people who answer 911 calls. Last night, I had the late shift, and during that time, I received a call around 2:20 AM from an injured man by the name of John Rackham, who reported having Read attack him in his own bar."

Of course it would have been Jack to ignite the flame. "If I can interject, I was working at the bar last night. Jack-"

"Who?"

"John, s'cuse me. He was already done because of his prior drinking. I hadn't witnessed the sexual harassment Mary claimed, but it's what spurred her to defend herself. And there's proof. It should also be noted that Jack partook in a fight with an officer—who was off-duty—as well." Jack was still the slimiest creature ever, even after having his ass handed to him. To think that he would try and pull the law to favor him—how pitiful. I did the same, yes, but to even the field.

"So I see. Yes, I sensed something was off about the caller. But worry not, the police do not know Mary Read was the one he was describing."

"Wait a moment...how do you know it was her?"

"From Rackham's description, it was namely the tattoo on her chest that identified her.

"Do you plan on staying quiet about this ordeal?"

"I said not to worry, James. I won't inform the others of her whereabouts. However, I will persist in continuing to warn you. Her past does not reflect all too well on her."

"You looked into her records?" I questioned, almost having felt violated in a way.

"You are aware of her past?" He shot me the same look back.

It was an unexpected standoff then. For someone I didn't know all that well, he knew more about "me" than I would have liked. To make things even more bizarre, I got the air that this man wasn't a hostile one. He truly seemed concerned for my well-being. I still knew not what to think of him.

Finally speaking up, he confirmed my question. "That I did. I imagine you would have done the same if a criminal was across from you." Oh, how funny that was to hear him say.

"I understand. Mary is a good woman, regardless of what a couple of documents say. So please, can you keep her a secret?" It was a strange request from me. However, I knew that "Mary"'s existence was a thing that required careful attention. If I were to go through with my plan, I couldn't leave any stone unturned. "She's a very important...person to me. Name anything, and I'll pay the price."

When I said this, Ah Tabai seemed taken aback. "There's no need for bribes, James. I've been in a similar predicament so I'm willing to offer assistance. However, do heed these words, boy: you would do best to keep her out of sight, for I fear her name will arise once more, if my intuition is right."

"What makes you think that?"

"There was an investigator who showed a vigorous interest in the case. I could not tell you of his appearance, as it was over the phone, but he did have a peculiar English accent—probably a distinction of it. Nonetheless, be wary, James. I will feign ignorance and try to lead any astray from Mary."

My gratitude was shown in the pats I gave to the taller man. "I am indebted to you, man." I nodded, confirming this. Though a thought lingered in my mind that couldn't be repressed from slipping out. "Why are you doing all of this for me?"

"I told you I was in a like predicament once." His voice was chilly then, and in turn, made me regret inquiring; but I realized I wasn't the source of his shift. He then revealed the underside of his forearm to show the crimson and charred patches of skin. Where the skin was less incinerated, pink patches exposed the remains of tribal tattoos. "Corrupted hearts took something very valuable to me, and this is my permanent reminder of my failure." The sleeve was rolled down, concealing the injury. "I wish not to see it occur to a like man."

I felt empathy for him. It made me wonder what he lost, though it was clearly a topic he wasn't going to expand upon. "Thank you, Ah Tabai."

"If you see Mary, relay my message onto her." The male nodded as he made his way for the door. I promised him that before letting him walk out. I took a seat on the armchair and remained silent to go over my thoughts.

As Ah Tabai's words grew concrete, so too did the fear that was implanted alongside it. Because of my actions the night prior, I put myself at risk without even realizing it. I was in Fortune's favor, as the man proved himself an ally and protected me. Consequently, I was reminded what was at stake. The man's wounds made me speculate if his past endeavor was to protect someone, rather than something. If that was true, then I felt all the more asinine for acting in such a brash manner, because I could have had the same fate.

Letting my hair down, I put on a loose version of my guise as Mary, and resumed the role of a mother. Then calling out to the two in the bedroom, I saw their heads poke out the doorway. Something in my demeanor must have changed, because I caught it on Anne's face. I would cross that bridge when I came to it, but in that moment, I needed some tangible proof that everything was fine for now. That might have explained why I wordlessly embraced my son and groomed his hair without comment. Anne watched me with prudence. I didn't even need to look. Peter, on the other hand, was absorbed in watching _The Pink Panther_ that he just went with it. I knew I couldn't stall off Anne for long, so with a peck, I left him with his show, while I caught Bonny up.

We exited the room, and headed to the one adjacent to it to speak. For a moment, neither of us said a word. Actions spoke enough. She didn't question the fact that I used her lap as a pillow or that any of my true exhaustion was exposed then. I was half guessing that she brought me there to give me a scolding. Instead, she did something unexpected that took me off-guard: lithe fingers combed through my hair, occasionally scraping the skin of my forehead lightly. To Anne, who could read me like a book, she knew (or could probably guess correctly at) what troubled me, and almost always had a remedy. However, in this circumstance, it would take a lot more than someone toying with my hair to settle me.

"I was outta line, Anne. I apologize—for today and yesterday."

"I accept your apology, but only on the condition that you tell me what went on there."

And so I did. It was a hefty lot of explaining, and felt like I would imagine therapy to feel like, but by the time I was done, I noted that it was quarter 'til noon and all I've accomplished was gammon. Anne understood (or so I hoped) my predicament, but offered no solution then. I was blank as well, and struggled with trying to come up with the next step.

After our returned silence, Anne's nail tapped my ear. "Do you think that Ah Tabai fellow could possibly serve as a mole?"

"Anne! The man was gracious enough to tip me off that Kenway is on my tail! What convinces you that he would be so loyal as to take that big a risk for me?"

"Hm…maybe not _you_, per say…"

"No."

"James, come on-"

"I am tired of deceiving my own sex as the opposite sex! Just ain't right! Kenway—he's exempt from my pity. But Ah Tabai is clearly innocent and shouldn't partake in my affairs!"

"Didn't stop him from protecting you though."

"But who's to say he'll do it again?"

Again, she grew mute, but not out of anger. But then, I recognized her look. It was one she wore when she was concocting a plan that usually lacked any sense to it. When her fist landed in her palm, that was my cue to listen up.

"We'll be rogue lesbian lovers-"

"NO."

"That have learned the error of their criminal and petty ways-"

"No."

"And try to begin life anew as regular model citizens—with aliases of course-"

"I said it's not gonna happen."

"And even adopt a kid to help fulfill their dream of being a family-"

"You're not using my son for this!"

"But they struggle because their past comes back to haunt them, credit due to a particularly nosy officer whose greed overtook him and wants to tear this family apart. So this young lad, Ah Tabai, upon realizing his past might be repeated with these lasses, decides to aid them out of his own goodwill, and keeps their family together.

"...What the hell are you, 16? It sounds like some shite amateur's work. But…it might be ludicrous enough to work."

"Innit? Though if we want to make this a reality, you will need an excuse for living here. If we're going through with this cover that is."

"I have lies on top of my lies—brilliant." I paused to take in the deception in the air. "How about I am offering the girls refuge?"

"That'll do. Now, if Mary goes to Ah Tabai, it'll raise a flag. Our best bet is to wait it out a coupla days. In that timeframe, Mary will talk to Edward, and she'll stir up some trouble that's bound to have her come up across Tabai again."

"What do you have in mind?" I glanced up at the redhead, trying to look at her instead of her breasts. "Do realize that my lies can only go on for so long."

"I know—you're not a pro. I can pull in a couple of helping hands—don't you worry, dear."

Sometimes, Anne really scared me shitless. I had no idea what the true extent of her power was, even after nine years of friendship.

"As for Kenway," Her chirp helped my focus. "We are not his true enemy. The clock is. If he can't find any scoops on Mary by…oh, let's give him a month, then he's nothing to go on. Thatch didn't appear to be all that willing to hear the bum try another futile attempt. So listen to me: you have one month to get close with him, and ruin him." The nails in my hair could have swayed me to do anything at that point, as I truly believed their touches were magic. "Edward Kenway was doomed from the moment he saw you. Believe you me, if they've any interest in digging up about Mary Read now, they will live to reject ever having muttered her name, James. You aren't the only one indebted to her."

"I know."

"So go 'head and make this phone call." Handing her phone to me, I recognized the number she punched in. Rings echoed in my ear until I heard a click that made me grin.

"Is this Edward Kenway?"

* * *

A/N: Hey all! Thanks for your support and feedback! It's really keeping me motivated to continue this fic! If you enjoyed it, please follow and/or leave a review! Just a heads-up that the next chapter might be a little slow, as more stories are to come. Happy Holidays!~

-S.


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